


Far From The Tree

by Kalael



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Thorin Lives, M/M, Post Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 18:24:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2821835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalael/pseuds/Kalael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They reach the wall, still covered in rubble, mostly destroyed by the bell that had gone crashing through it.  From the wreckage of Erebor’s front gate and over the empty battlefield they can see the ruins of Dale.</p><p>“Oh.”  Bilbo breathes.  “Oh, how lovely.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Far From The Tree

It wasn’t as though he hadn’t held another's hand before, delicate fingers laced between his own as they walked down the path to her front doorstep. She had smiled wanly and pressed a kiss to his cheek, her eyes telling him that she was not as interested as either of them had believed. He had smiled back, sent her a lovely letter thanking her for the evening they had spent together, and that was the end of that. Neither of them had lost anything, nor gained anything. The warmth of her palm against his had been lukewarm and clammy in the damp autumn air.

Thorin’s hands are hot, his fingers clasped around Bilbo’s rather than laced through them, a comfort and a shield. Bilbo allows himself to be led to the front wall, his heart beating painfully quick within his chest, beneath the mithril shirt.

“Slow down!” Bilbo scolds, half laughing. Once Azog had been defeated, Thorin had grown restless and eager to start life over again despite the severity of his wounds. “You’re going to tear your stitches, you overgrown toddler.”

“I’m fine.” Thorin tells him distractedly. They reach the wall, still covered in rubble, mostly destroyed by the bell that had gone crashing through it. From the wreckage of Erebor’s front gate and over the empty battlefield they can see the ruins of Dale.

“Oh.” Bilbo breathes. “Oh, how lovely.”

The sun peeks over the mountains and paints the city pale gold. It is beautiful beyond measure, worth more than all the treasure in Erebor’s halls. Smoke trails up from the houses and Bilbo imagines the smells of baking bread and smoked meat. In a decade or two, Dale may be as grand as it once was.

Bilbo turns to look at Thorin and finds that the dwarven king is already staring at him, that same soft look that Bilbo had never been able to place before all this. Bilbo smiles and Thorin allows his hand to escape from his grip. The air is colder at the absence of that touch.

“We will begin reparations soon. When there are more of us to share the work. Balin has already drawn out plans for it, and I have approved them. I will break ground within the next fortnight.” It goes unspoken, the question of whether or not Bilbo will be there to see it. He looks away to stare across the mountains, beyond which the Shire waits in peaceful ignorance for his return. Bilbo fumbles into his pocket and pulls out the acorn he had taken from Beorn’s garden.

“I…” The acorn slips from his fingers. Bilbo starts after it and Thorin follows, shouting out a warning that Bilbo doesn’t quite hear.

The rubble is loose beneath his feet. He stumbles, the acorn skittering just past his fingers. Thorin’s hand misses his own.

“Oh.” Dale is a pale pink, ruby quartz as the sun rises. The debris falling past him glitters in the light. Bilbo twists in the air, catches Thorin’s horrified stare, sees himself reflected in those eyes.

He falls from the first wall into golden sunlight.

**Author's Note:**

> u know he dead
> 
> I'm sorry I got the idea and thought it was hilarious, so I needed to write it.


End file.
